Righteous Lies (Book 1: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (9 page)

"It'll be
different when he's here," Jack said, then opened the door for her to
enter.

As she stood
looking around, Grace felt the sting of tears. The place was barren. Devoid of
warmth. And love. She had an urge to spend the day scrubbing floors and
arranging furniture...

"It's just
a place to hang my hat," Jack said, as if in apology.

"It's also
where you plan to house our son when he stays with you," Grace pointed out.
"You can't bring a baby here. It's unsanitary. It doesn't look like you've
cleaned in months."

"Look,
I'll get the place cleaned in time," Jack said. "I've been busy. I'll
be hiring a cleaning woman to come in once a week. One bedroom's already a nursery."

Grace eyed him
with uncertainty. "I want to see it." Judging from the rest of the
house, she couldn't imagine a room suitable for a baby.

"It's just
baby furniture right now," Jack said.

Grace followed
Jack down a hallway to a bedroom. Although bare of curtains, the room contained
a crib, a changing table, a small dresser, a rocker, and a low stool. The
furniture looked used, so she assumed Jack picked it up at a garage sale.
"It's okay but you need to sponge it all off with disinfectant before you bring
the baby here," she said, finding it odd that Jack hadn't bought new
furniture, obsessive as he was about the baby.

"It'll be
ready by the time he's here," Jack replied.

Grace sat in
the rocker, and said, while rocking slowly, "You'll have to hire someone
to look after him when he's here. You can't do it and run the ranch and I doubt
Flo would be up to looking after a newborn."

Jack stood
watching her, an odd look on his face she didn't try to make sense of. Jack was
a complex man. Trying to interpret his state of mind from his facial
expressions would defy the best psychologist. "You do intend to hire someone,
don't you?" she asked, when he didn't reply.

"I've got
it worked out," Jack said. "I'm moving you to the ranch. We'll sell
your house and I'll build you one here. And our son—"

"He needs
a name," Grace cut in. "We can't keep calling him our son, or the
boy, or the baby. I don't think of him as Marc anymore, and you don't want to
name him after you, for whatever reason, even though I think Jack junior would
be nice."

"I'll pick
up a book of names," Jack said. "For now, I'll clean the back bedroom
and move you there. That way you'll be here when you go into labor, and after
he's born, I can help you when he wakes at night to be fed."

Grace eyed Jack
with irritation. "And after my house is built? Do you plan to install an
intercom so you can come whenever I call?" she said, with an edge of
sarcasm. But she was at wits end with Jack constantly micromanaging her life.

"I already
planned to do that," Jack said.

"You just
don't get it," Grace burst out. "I like my house. I spent hours
fixing up the nursery, I have friends nearby, and I have a job."

"You won't
need a job here," Jack insisted. "All you have to do is take care of
our son. I'd see that the two of you have everything you need."

"What if I
decide to get married again?" Grace said. "Would I be able to bring
my new husband out here to live?"

It was the
space of several heartbeats before Jack said, simply, "I don't know."

"Well, I
do know," Grace said. "I lost a man I loved, but I don't plan to
spend my life alone. I want a husband and children, and that won't happen if
I'm stuck out here."

"You can
move here for now," Jack replied. "Maybe later things will be
different."

"I'm not
going to move in with you," Grace said. "Because of our
circumstances, you've been privy to things only a husband should be involved
with. I also agreed to let you be present during the delivery. But we're not
married, and I won't stay here with you, even if we'd be in separate
bedrooms."

"Then I
suppose we could—" Jack stopped. And shrugged.

When he offered
nothing more, Grace said, "One more week, then I'm moving back to my
house. There's nothing for me here." She pushed out of the rocker and
started down the hallway.

Jack caught up
with her and took her by the arm. "There's a lot you don't know, things
that happened. Maybe after the baby's born we can talk. But for now—" he moved
slowly toward her "—I want to have you nearby when you go into
labor." His eyes fixed on hers, then dropped to her lips. To her shock, he
pulled her to him and kissed her, and she curved her arms around his neck and
kissed him back, awkward as it was with her belly between them.

But the kiss
was short. "Sorry. That shouldn't have happened," Jack said,
releasing her. "I'll carry you back to the lodge."

And Grace felt
like an incubator again. One that was overheating and wanting more than Jack
was willing to give. But for the life of her she still couldn't figure out why
she was drawn to a man who was determined to direct her life even if he didn't
intend to be a part of it beyond helping her raise their son. And she realized,
as Jack held her in his arms while carrying her back to the lodge, and she
cuddled close to him, that after being a widow for almost three years, she
wanted a man in her bed again. And she wanted that man to be Jack.

***

On the morning that
Jack's mother was to return, Sam was supposed to pick her up at the airport so
Jack could finish some roof work on one of the outbuildings, but Susan had
another emotional outburst, so Sam stayed at their house with her, while Jack
made the airport run. Ricky was turned over to Flo to watch, but since Flo was
busy getting the bedroom suite ready for Jack's mother, Grace offered to look
after the toddler in her bedroom.

Other than
feeling like she was pregnant with a twenty-pound child who was the size of a
large watermelon, Grace felt good. All signs of premature labor had passed, and
when Jack took her to her weekly exam the previous day, Dorrie announced that
everything was back on track. Everything with her pregnancy was on track, that
is. Her personal life was troubling, at best.

Four days after
that short sweet kiss she couldn't set it aside. She'd done nothing to
encourage it. But all the while Jack was talking about wanting her to live in
his house she'd felt like wrapping her arms around him and kissing him. Maybe
he'd sensed it. It came to her that she wanted a certain level of intimacy with
Jack, beyond the intimacy of having him hold her hand at the hospital. She
couldn’t imagine Marc with her then. To get around the awkwardness he would
have said something silly, which would have made it more awkward. But Jack was
a serious man. For him, it was all about what was best for her and his unborn
son. Then there were those moments when he got an appealing little smile, which
made her wonder if he'd always been so serious. And sad. There was definitely a
sadness about him. Like a clown after the circus was over and there was nothing
more to laugh about. She wanted to give Jack something to laugh about but
didn't know how, because she didn't know why he was sad, and she couldn't ask.

...there's a lot you don't know, things that
happened...

Ricky stirred
beside her in bed. She'd been letting him flip the pages of a picture book when
he fell asleep. "Hi, sleepyhead," she said, when he opened his big
black eyes and looked up at her. He smiled. And Grace felt her heart melt. That
same smile Jack got at odd times. "Shall we go find Mei Ling and see how
she is?" she asked.

Ricky sat up
and rubbed his eyes. "Mei Ling have kitties?"

"Not yet,
sweetie. But she'll be having them soon. They'll be very tiny, and we won't be
able to play with them for a little while, but they'll be fun to watch."

Ricky put his hand
on Grace's belly. "Baby brudder here?" he asked.

"No, baby
brother's in your mommy's tummy," Grace replied, suppressing the urge to
tell Ricky that the baby in his mother's tummy might ultimately be his cousin
instead of his brother. Susan planted the seed, and now, all Grace could think
of was adopting Marc's baby. It was possible. Susan showed every sign of
preparing to give him up at birth. And Grace was prepared to take him, although
she wasn't sure how she'd handle two newborns. She could ask her mother to come
for a couple of weeks, but she'd hear no end to what a mistake she'd made, and
now she was having the baby of a cowboy, and if she'd gone to college like
they'd wanted instead of getting pregnant by a dead man, none of this would
have happened...

Ricky slid off
the bed and went over to pet Mei Ling, who had returned to her cat bed on the
floor beside the bed. She'd been restless all day, snooping around, crawling
under the bed, going into the bathroom, scratching the door to the closet to get
in, then going into her bed and round and round in circles before settling
down, only to repeat the whole pattern of behavior. And Grace knew she was
getting ready to have her kittens.

Nesting it was
called. She'd read about how females of all species, including humans, had an
instinct to prepare a place to give birth. For house cats it was finding a
dark, quiet corner, away from activity. For women, it was cleaning the house.
They'd laughed about it at birthing class, hearing stories of women, nine months
and counting, mopping and vacuuming and going at their housework like a ball of
fire.

For the next
hour, she kept Ricky in her bedroom. He was a quiet toddler, seeming happy
arranging the little plastic animals he'd dumped out of a small bucket that Flo
had given her. But it wasn't long before Ricky stopped what he was doing and
looked up. His face look pale, as if all the blood had drained from it, and his
eyelids drooped. He also placed his hands to his face, as if holding up his
head. Grace patted the bed. "Come sit next to me, sweetie. I'll read to
you."

Ricky climbed
on the bed and cuddled against her and placed his arm over her belly, and she
wondered if he instinctively wanted to be close to the child who could make him
well. It was a troubling thought, the child inside her being the difference
between life and death for the child pressing against her, and who seemed
especially warm. She put her hand to Ricky's forehead. Definitely warm. Ricky
raised those big black eyes to meet her gaze and smiled his sweet little smile.
Jack's sweet smile. Again she was reminded of the child growing inside her. A
child she hoped would look like this engaging little boy.

Reaching for
the alphabet picture book with animals from A to Z, she held it up where Ricky
could turn the pages. But when he raised his hand, it faltered, so she did it
for him...

***

It was early
afternoon by the time Jack returned from the airport with his mother. Grace
left Ricky asleep on her bed and went into the living room to meet Maureen Hansen.
After Jack made introductions, to Grace's surprise, Jack's mother gave her a
hug.

"I know
all about the mix-up," Maureen said, "but the baby you're carrying is
my grandchild, so you're family now, just as Susan's baby will be. I am
concerned about Susan though. She's having trouble accepting things, so I
decided to come home early and help look after Ricky. He can be a handful when
he's well." She sat on the couch and patted the cushion.

Grace sat
beside her. "I suppose he can be," she said, though she hadn't seen
that side of Ricky. After playing with his plastic toys he'd been content
sitting beside her in bed while she turned the pages of the book, until he fell
asleep.

"Son, I
could use a glass of wine," Maureen said to Jack. "And get some juice
for Grace." She patted Grace's hand. "Then you and I are going to get
acquainted."

In an instant,
Grace felt more at home with Jack's mother than she'd ever felt with Marc's
family. Marc's highly educated parents had never adjusted to their son marrying
a woman who's goal in life was to be a wife and mother and have a house with a
back yard, and six kids and a few cats. Marc had been fine with that. They'd
bought the house and Mei Ling, so having Marc's child would have been a partial
fulfillment of her dream. But she wasn't having Marc's child. She was having
Jack's, and he wanted to build a house so she'd be close.

That is, so his
son would be close...

After Jack brought
the wine and juice and left, Maureen said to Grace, "How is Ricky?"

"He seems
fine," Grace replied, "but it was only the second time I've been
around him. I don't know much about his illness other than it's a rare blood
disorder and he needs a bone marrow transplant. Did they know from birth he was
sick?"

Maureen nodded.
"He was very pale, and when he was circumcised, instead of deep red blood
it was pink. The pediatrician had blood tests run, which showed he has
Schwartz-Traub anemia, a disorder that doesn't allow his body to produce white
blood cells without help."

"What kind
of help?" Grace asked.

"Prednisone.
He takes it every day. It stimulates his bone marrow to produce white blood
cells. But if a blood draw shows he's not producing, or producing them too
slowly, he has to have a transfusion, which has side effects—headache, fever,
hives and other allergic reactions—so they're given only when steroids aren't
working. Jack said Ricky had a transfusion recently."

Grace nodded.
"You mentioned fever. Ricky felt warm today, and he kept putting his hands
to his face, like his head was heavy."

"He does
that when he has a headache," Maureen said. "Usually a sign he needs
another transfusion."

"Then
he'll need steroids and transfusions all his life?" Grace asked, trying to
get a handle on Ricky's illness. In the waiting room at the clinic he'd been a
faceless child with a disorder. Now, he was very real, and very precious. A
child within her power save. But only at the risk of her own child. If she were
to make the flight, and her nerves kicked in, which was certain to happen, her
water could break and the baby could come thirty-thousand feet above ground.